I want to maximize life experiences, social interactions and joyous moments, while accumulating knowledge and wisdom about this world and its people, recognizing happiness and contentment along the way and journal these experiences for continuous reflection.

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ski weekend

Up to stratton mountain with AJ (my boy up from Charleston for this ski trip) and Kyle. We do the night out bar thing (good times) , wake up a little hungover and drag ass to the mountain. It was negative 10 with the wind chill and the wind was a good 20 mph blowing all the loose snow at us while we hung in the air on the lift (which took a 40min wait on line for this privilege). We did one run and got a refund. Good times.

An Aside – This was my first ski trip this year because of cancellations of previous ski plans for various reasons. A few months ago , I pulled all my ski gear from my shed and loaded my car with it , in anticipation of my first trip. We get to the mountain which is PACKED despite the ridiculous weather. Its presidents day weekend and families abound. I pull into a corner cubby room to put on my ski sweater, boots and other ski paraphernalia. I pull my sweater out of my bag and see that the bottom of it is all chewed up , and has some wood shavings scattered on it. Damn , I got attacked by a mouse. I then grab my boots and open up the bindings and stretch out the flaps in anticipation of squeezing a foot into these god-forsaken tight boots. During this struggle an acorn drops to the floor , devoid of its tell-tale crown. Confused , I put the boot down on its side to pick up the acorn. A dozen more acorns fall out my boot and roll across the floor. Aghast , I dump the boot upside down and no less than 30 some-odd acorns , without their heads , bounce upon the floor like scattered marbles ….. Oh My God !! My boot was infested by a squirrel , I look inside to see if there is anything else and ….SHIT — I toss the boot onto the ground ….damn !! What looked like a dead petrified animal sticking up at me was simply a grey nest of yarn , most likely crafted from another clothing item from my bag. Freaked me out. I tentatively stick my hand and arm in boot to remove any other offending obstructions , fully expecting to feel a dead squishy , or a live bitey. Nothing. I squeeze my foot into the boot. Kyle and AJ , separately walk into this room , to be given the story. I point to the pile of acorns I pushed and piled in a corner of the room. Each time I described the story for my friends, a fellow ski-dresser exclaimed, ” I was wondering what the heck that was about.” These people come into the room , see this pile of acorns , and are wracking their brain , “Why the hell are a few dozen bald acorns neatly pushed into the corner of this changing room , Why ?”